


It Was An Accident, I Swear!

by theshippingprince



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, also there's a slight amount of eleven/molly but i don't believe that has a ship name, each chapter is a different character's POV, eleven and john are just really sad, rory fangirls over john in this as well, there's a slight amount of amy/sherlock in here but shhh don't tell rory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-09-18 07:11:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9373742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshippingprince/pseuds/theshippingprince
Summary: It's his Ponds' wedding night, and The Doctor decides (probably because he forgot a gift for them in the first place) to take them on a honeymoon trip through the stars to a calm alien planet. However, all doesn't exactly go according to plan when the trio accidentally crash another wedding. A certain Watson wedding. Complete with the one and only, Sherlock Holmes.





	1. Wedding Crashers

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, dear readers!
> 
> I originally wrote this way back in 2014 on Fanfiction.net (I was a baby back then) but, I thought since I am currently making my slow transition over to AO3, I would post it here as well. To keep things short: this story is one character's POV per chapter, starting with Amy and so on and so on. It takes place after Amy and Rory got married in Doctor Who, and during Mary and John's wedding ceremony in Sherlock.

Amy's POV

I suppose, when you think of the words ‘Wedding Crashers’ your mind almost immediately goes to the movie. The sassiness of the actors, the chaoticness of the whole mashed up comedy, it’s honestly quite a funny experience. (I would just like to say that I indeed was dragged into going see the movie one movie-night, courtesy of my friends, but if I didn’t they would have gestured to each other and said “Good, good. More for me and you.” and made another stupid joke). Will Ferrell being Will Ferrell, truly one of the funniest movies of this age. Of course, I’ve found funnier movies, in the future, in the past, on other planets, but nothing compares to the time when we, The Doctor, Rory and I, crashed a wedding.

First of all, I would just like to blame The Doctor because it was entirely his fault, but I also have to blame myself. If I was able to resist my best friend’s floppy hair and awkward giraffe-like movements, I don’t think we would have ever crashed the wedding in the first place. However, I can’t say that I wasn’t glad that we had. 

It was our own wedding night. The Doctor, being The Doctor, decided to (probably because he had forgotten to bring a gift for us in the first place) take us on an adventure across all of time and space. And of course, I couldn’t even hope for anything more. I had waited twelve years for The Doctor, and now that he was here, I couldn’t get enough. So, still wrapped in a tighter than tight white and lacy wedding dress, I grabbed Rory’s reluctant arm and dragged him on to the TARDIS with The Doctor. 

I should have known by now that the TARDIS never listens to where The Doctor wants to go. I should have known by now that the TARDIS likes setting things up for The Doctor, not even caring what the circumstances are, and I really should have known that The Doctor can’t even control the TARDIS for any of his lives. 

Of course, being as insane as I was that night, all the thoughts that should have stopped me from jumping on the TARDIS and told me to stay the whole night wrapped up in sheets and covers with my newly-wedded husband watching all sorts of romantic Netflix shows and late night television, were not there. And I knew that Rory wouldn’t put up a good fight, because he’s Rory, so instead, we were on the TARDIS. With The Doctor.

“So, where are we going Doctor?” The younger, less experienced me said. I was leaning against the console unit in the center of the TARDIS’ control room, watching my raggedy spaceman spin around me, pulling all sorts of levers and switches that he always pulls to get the TARDIS to run. The whole room was sort of swaying ever so slightly, like a mother rocking her child in a carriage. 

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” That was The Doctor, “would it, Pond?” He was a blur as he spun around me. He was spinning so fast that my eyes could barely keep track of him. But from what I could tell, he was still dressed up in suit from the wedding. The black jacketed suit with the white shirt and the cream colored scarf that he decided to wear for who knows what reason. Which meant that it was real. I was glad, I don’t think I could have handled him wearing some sort of strange alien material, or worse, his bow-tied outfit. The one with the Grandpa jacket and the strangely colored suspenders. It made me shiver just thinking about it. Did Time Lords just have no style or something?

“Plus,” He continued, “I wouldn’t want to spoil my lovely Ponds wedding gift!” I honestly don’t know if he knew where he was going at that point. He might have been making it up as he went along for all I knew!

However, being as ignorant as I was at the time, all I was hoping for was a nice planet filled with beautiful island beaches and peacefully swaying oceans, sitting with my Rory, letting the alien sun roast my human skin. But, if I had used my head, I should have known that when you travel with The Doctor, that is almost guaranteed not to happen. Almost. I hoped that this time would be that almost.

Hah,  _ no _ .

There would probably never be a perfectly safe day with The Doctor.

At least, not in my time.

But that wasn’t the point. I was too happy at the time to even worry about The Doctor’s fantastical adventures with his Ponds. And when their adventures might end. But it didn’t matter. Not now. 

I was too busy being happy for myself. And Rory. Oh adorable Rory Williams and his ginger Amelia Pond--Williams, I have to remember to say Williams now. What an awful last name. I didn’t know if I could get used to that. I probably had to, since I was now married to the man. I loved him more than his last name.

And speaking of the handsome klutz of a man, there he was, clinging to the side of the TARDIS for his life. He was perfect. He was my perfect little klutz. I loved him and he loved me. He loved me so much he’d protect me till the end of time. He’d be by my side until forever ended, which doesn’t make much sense, but when you travel through time with The Doctor, many things that didn’t make sense before start to not make much more sense. 

Time is all wibbly wobbly.

I grinned and launched myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck and catapulting the two of us around the TARDIS. I swear I could hear her laughing, that amazing TARDIS. I knocked Rory’s tophat ascue, and leaned against him, my own pointy nose touching his big awkward one slightly. 

“I love you!” I said, grinning like an idiot.

“I love you too,  _ Amelia Williams _ .” He smiled brightly. Ah, he must have been the happiest man in the whole universe that night. He probably still is, as long as I’m around.

But The Doctor cut in. “This isn’t a Snog-Box, Ponds. If you wanted a Snog-Box you shouldn’t have gone in here! I’m not your personal Snog-Box-Time-Traveling-Taxi.” But he didn’t mean it.

He loved us more than anything.

I don’t think he could have survived without us. We waited for him, so he promised us the universe in return for company. The TARDIS Trio, we were. The Ginger, The Nurse and The Spaceman. I pulled him, mid spin, into the hug. He nearly tripped over his own feet. Again. But, I guess, that’s why we loved him. He was just what Rory and I needed in our lives. An escape. And an adventure. 

“My boys. My perfect boys.” I grinned between the two.

“We’re not your boys, Amelia.” The Doctor gave me a fakely stern look, pressing a hand on either of our backs. I could see that he was trying to stifle a smile.

“You are too!” I called back. “Besides, it’s my wedding night, you have to be nice to me.”

“I am nice to you, Pond! I take you and show you the stars. That’s quite a nice thing to do, you know. I could have taken anyone, and yet, I have my Ponds here with me. I’m pretty sure it’s quite a nice thing to do.” The Doctor flipped his hair awkwardly. “And I do it all the time. I’m really sure that counts as something.”

“Yes, but you do that all the time!” I growled back at him. “Tonight’s my wedding night! I want something special!”

Rory beamed between us. “The Doctor promised us something special, Amy. I don’t want our gift to be ruined.”

“Yes! Rory, you need to learn to control your wife!” He kissed both of us on a cheek and scrambled out of the hug, heading back to the controls. 

“Technically, you’re the one making this a Snog-Box, Doctor. You’re the one who’s always kissing people!” I giggled. 

“But I don’t count, Amelia!” He was a blur again. “It’s the two of you I’m worried about. You’re always going all smoochie-smoochie on me.”

Life couldn’t possibly be that perfect. Traveling around with your best friend and your lover at the same time. Laughing, having a good time together for eternity. All of space and time to explore together. Of course, when traveling with The Doctor there were always mishaps that occurred. Every. Single. Time. But I didn’t care at that moment. I knew this time would be different. 

And I was wrong. Really really wrong.

I didn’t see The Doctor slip, but I felt it. I think I still have a bruise on the side of my body to show for it. One moment I was laughing and enjoying my company of friends, and the next, I was flying through the air looking like some sort of exotic bird with my ginger hair and bright white wedding dress. My Raggedy Doctor was barely hanging on to the main section of the TARDIS, the screen part (where River had previously hung her stunningly blood red heels), and his legs were hanging in all sorts of weird angles. 

I could barely hear Rory calling my name, but felt him soon enough as he crashed against me, pinning the two of us to the side of the TARDIS. The two of us hung on to each other as we wailed our way through space and time. And just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. The Doctor had finally found the correct switch and pulled it, stopping us abruptly. Rory asked if I was alright.

“I-I’m fine...” I answered, slightly out of breath. “What the hell was that?”

But it wasn’t Rory who answered me, it was The Doctor. “That, was us arriving at your human-wedding gift destination!” He looked a little nervous, as if he didn’t quite know exactly where we were (which was actually probably the truth, now that I think about it). 

He leapt down the steps, sliding on the railing slightly, before arriving at the door of the TARDIS. He turned back towards us, one hand on the door, the other holding up an imaginary glass of champagne. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat, but that wasn’t exactly a comforting sight. 

“To my Ponds!” He raised the invisible glass to the ceiling. “And their magnificent future!”

He beamed and opened the door of the TARDIS. However, the people on the other side of the door weren’t as happy.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here... Doctor?” The words came from a short man, one with a lined, but happy, face. One that had clearly gone through a lot of tragic events in the recent past. He had neatly combed almost faded-blonde hair and eyebrows that were tightly pressed together. He looked a tad bit confused as he looked from The Doctor to Rory and I, but then he seemed to get a look of realization on his face. 

Had he met us before? In our future?  
  
“Sorry everyone,” The short man coughed slightly, looking between an extremely tall man with curly black hair (who was giving us a dirty look) and a short woman with tightly pinned blonde hair (who was looking curiously between us). “My friends said they’d show up late. These are The Ponds and their Doctor.” He smiled brightly, yet awkwardly, turning back to the three of us. “I’m glad you could make it, I hope you enjoy what’s left of my wedding.”


	2. Old Friends

Mary's POV

To be totally honest with you, I was very scared when the blue box appeared behind my husband. Huge old police boxes don’t usually appear in the middle of the air. Especially at a wedding. And three people don’t usually peek their heads out of the rather small said police box. It wasn’t the scariest thing that has happened to me in all my years, but it was quite surprising. I won’t say that I don’t believe in the impossible, but the impossible to be involved with my husband? Not likely.

His best friend _had_ come back from the dead, but I don’t think that counted.

John’s best friend was the famous Sherlock Holmes. And when you dealt with Sherlock Holmes, I suppose, anything was possible. He could fake his own death, more than once probably.

The same wasn’t to be said about John and I.

But at the time, John and I had been waltzing, peacefully waltzing. The couple’s first dance. It was supposed to be quite special, I had heard from the other married guests. And to be honest, I was very excited about it. (I decided to push down and ignore that digging, awful feeling in my gut, I was going to tell John eventually, just not yet).

We were in the middle of doing a strange box-step type of move when it first started to appear. A gasping, whooshing sound filled the room. The guests looked around curiously, confused slightly. But instead of looking at everyone, I stared at John. His eyes seemed to go wide, a huge number of emotions jumping across his face; shock, giddiness, anger, and sorrow, to name a few. It was confusing to me (at the time) that one sound could possibly trigger that many emotions at once, but as soon as I saw the look on John’s face when he saw that box I understood.

This was a friend of John’s. One that he had thought that he would never see again.

What else had John done when Sherlock was ‘dead’?

I heard a couple people fainting when the box finally appeared. I didn’t actually look over at them, but I heard the loud gasps of air and the groans of other guests catching the fainting ones. My eyes were glued on the box, wide with shock.

John, fists clenched, waited for the door to open. And when it did, I was nearly face-to-face with some of the tallest people I had ever seen in my life. Well, not face-to-face, but more face to torso. I had to look way, way up to see their faces. You see, I don’t consider myself to be short, it was just that the three of them were very tall.

There was a child-like looking man at the front. He had a strange suit-like outfit on, a black jacketed outfit with an awkward scarf that wound its way around his neck, falling lightly down his body. He was wearing a grin, which slowly turned into an awkward cringe as he came face-to-face with John’s smoldering look. He was extremely thin, not the sick type of thin, just the type of thin that said ‘I’m sorry, I was just sort-of born this way’. For hair, he had a weird swoop of hair that seemed to defy gravity for a moment before crashing down with the help of gravity. And he had the biggest chin imaginable. The. Biggest. Chin.

There was a girl beside him who had fiery red hair. She looked surprised (and a little happy) for a moment, before she spotted me, and then her smile turned into a frown as she turned towards the first man. She was nearly as tall as the first man, but clearly was much more mature. Or a little more mature, it was hard to tell, just from seeing her. She was wearing a nicely cut white dress, a wedding dress. Now I understood her frown at the first man. Now there were two brides at this wedding.

I wonder who she was married to?

Probably, with the look she was giving the man in the scarf, the third man.

The third man was looking awkwardly at the whole wedding ceremony, his eyes seeming to curse the first man, internally face-palm and apologise to everyone at the same time. He had a shy look on his face, almost Molly-like. His hair was parted on the side and pulled over to right, like a teenage hipster (yes, with the big glasses and all). However, both he and the ginger looked annoyed at the first man. He must have been the one who brought them here.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here... Doctor?” John shout-whispered. He was shaking slightly, staring up at the first man. He didn’t seem surprised to see The Doctor, but there was a strange sadness about how he looked at the trio from the box.

The Doctor-man smiled awkwardly down at John. He was at a loss for words. Luckily, John had him covered. It was like he was running by a script. Strange, strange John. “Sorry Everyone,” He turned back to the crowd, making eye contact with Sherlock then with me. “My friends said they’d show up late. These are the Pond’s and their Doctor.” He smiled brightly, yet the smile was fake. What on earth was going on?! He turned back towards the trio. “I’m glad you could make it, I hope you enjoy what’s left of my now-crashed wedding.”

The guests were still staring at the box, and it’s inhabitants.

There was an awkward pause as John tried to figure out what was to be done. There was clearly something he had to talk to the Pond’s and their Doctor about. “Let the dancing begin!” The Doctor-man called to the crowd with a grin. He had such a strange voice, English sounding, but it was slightly off. He reached into his coat, and carefully pressed a button on an unseen object, an annoying buzzing filled the air for a moment and then--

The lights suddenly changed to strobe and loud music blasted its way through the speakers positioned all over the room.

The DJ looked a bit confused as he looked at the music that had started without him touching a thing. I glanced at Sherlock, his brow was furrowing, looking suspiciously at the Doctor-man and his Pond’s. But the guests seemed unphased by the noise, and many jumped on to the dancefloor, minding their own business.

John grabbed the Doctor-man’s jacket sleeve, causing him to call out (but it was muffled by the music), grab the ginger’s arm, and she grabbed her husband’s arm. My annoyed husband gave both Sherlock and I a look, telling us to follow him. We did.

The five of us walked down a long hallway, one in which was quiet and seemingly empty. A perfect place to talk about what the hell was going on. The Doctor-man, the Pond’s and John were quite a ways ahead of me, so I walked beside John’s curly, dark haired friend. Sherlock towered over me, a looming figure with dark clothing, hiding in the shadows like the Consulting Detective he was. But I could tell he was curious. John was his best friend, and he cared for him more than ever. Or maybe he was jealous. That made perfect sense too. Perhaps Sherlock thought that he wasn’t the first, and maybe John had had this childlike man before him, and once the man had left him for these Pond people, the short man had gone looking for a new companion.

The thought made me chuckle, earning me a sour look from the detective.

“Just because it’s your wedding night, does not give you the permission to laugh at me, Mary Watson.” Sherlock muttered at me.

“Who says I was laughing at you, Sherlock Holmes?” I countered. He gave me a dirty look, typical Sherlock.

The two of us rounded a corner of the hallway, following John and his ‘guests’ into a rather empty, shadowed side-hallway. He turned towards the Doctor-man, who flinched and ducked behind the ginger bride. She scowled at the Doctor-man.

“This was supposed to be my wedding gift, Doctor!” She said in a scottish accent. What on earth was a Scot doing out here? But then and again, how on earth did that blue box appear out of nowhere? “Not some sort of stupid scheme to crash someone else’s wedding. This is all your fault, Raggedy Man!” She looked somewhere in the middle of fury and about-to-start-crying-hysterically.

I could see John start to pity the girl for a moment. She clearly just wanted to have a good time, but her friend, the Doctor-man, clearly couldn’t help where he ended up, could he? I walked over to the ginger, tenderly touching the side of her arm with a gentle smile. “It’s alright.” What could I say? _Us brides should stick together?_ No way! “I’m Mary. What’s your name?”

“Amy.” She looked at me curiously, as if she’d met me before, but couldn’t place it. Almost in a dream of sorts. “Mary what, if you don’t mind me asking…?”

“Mary Watson. Just recently Watson, actually. I was Mary Morstan only a couple of hours ago.” I smiled at Amy brightly, I had the right to brag, I was actually finally married!

Her eyes went wide as she looked at me. “M-Mary Morstan?” She stuttered. The Doctor-man’s eyes went wide and the other Pond muttered “No, way…”. What was going on?

“That must make you,” The husband-Pond pointed at John with a shaky finger. “J-John Watson.” John nodded uncertainly. The husband-Pond’s eyes widened further as he looked at Sherlock. “And…”

“Sherlock Holmes.” The three chorused.

That certainly was strange. I knew Sherlock was a celebrity in London, but had he made it all the way to Scotland?

Sherlock looked between the three of them. “Yes? Do you have a problem with that?” He looked a tad bit annoyed, but that was Sherlock for you.

The Doctor’s eyes went wider, as he stepped past Amy and went to Sherlock taking his hands and shaking them up and down enthusiastically. The Pond’s stayed frozen in their spots, staring at Sherlock. The Doctor was muttering loudly, saying a lot yet saying nothing at all. “It’s such a great pleasure to meet you, such a great honor…” He went on and on for a bit, but I was tuning him out.

John was looking at The Doctor like he had seen this all before.

But how could that be? I was sure this was the first time they had clearly met us. I was ever so confused by this point, especially about The Doctor’s blue box. What John meant about his old friends? These were certainly not old friends, they were new strangers, or… Or something…

I didn’t know what to think by this point.

And everything that was coming up in my head seemed utterly impossible.

Sherlock spoke up. “Yes, I am Sherlock Holmes. I see you’ve heard of me.”

The Doctor responded, “Yes, of course! Who hasn’t. I mean, I haven’t and you’re… Well, wouldn’t want to tell you that, would I. The question is, what are you doing here. Because clearly, you aren’t supposed to be here…”

“Not supposed to be here? What do you mean?” Sherlock looked confused. A rare sight to see.

The Doctor paused for a moment. “Spoilers.”

John broke in. “Could you possibly be more vague. Just tell them who you are Doctor.” He paused, pointing to Sherlock and I in turn. “She’s my wife and he’s my best friend. You of all people should know this.” He gave The Doctor a look that said more.

The strange man looked at John for a moment, his eyes seemed trustworthy, yet sad, and curious all at the same time. He didn't trust John that much, I could tell, but I guessed that it was something in his past... Or his future. It was hard to understand. Then he looked at us with a stare that seemed to freeze time around us. “I’m The Doctor. I’m a Time Lord. I’m from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous. I am 1200-and-something years old.” Amy and her husband gave The Doctor a look that plainly said, _how do you not know your own age?_ “These are my two companions, Amy and Rory Pond." Another dirty look from the married couple. "And I just crashed the Watson’s wedding,” He grinned broadly, madly. “and I am ready to dance!”

Sherlock and I looked at each other in shock. _This man was completely insane!_


	3. Something From A Fairytale

Sherlock's POV

Of course, I didn’t believe any of them. Who would anyway? Time Travelers? Ha! Sure, this Doctor had a strange style of clothing, from his off colored scarf to the way his hair flipped over the side of his head, but that didn’t necessarily say anything. Did it?

I couldn’t possibly be sure.

And as much as I wanted to go to my mind palace and figure this out, I didn’t quite get the chance. I just couldn’t tune the upset cries of the Ginger, the muttering of the husband and the many apologies that The Doctor had to say. The ginger, Amy she was called, had a breakdown and started yelling at The Doctor about how messed up this was. She said she had just wanted to have a good time, yet here she was, ruining someone else’s wedding. And not just any wedding, John Watson’s wedding. It seemed as if John, Mary and I were much more important than I had originally thought. 

How very curious. I knew I was popular, but it didn’t quite make sense that she would know so much about me. Including that John was getting married. And to Mary for that matter.

Of course, The Doctor had told the husband man, Rory, to ‘calm his wife down’ which got the married couple both angry at The Doctor, causing the man to start to back away from them and down the hallway, running straight into a concerned looking Molly Hooper (who was eyeing me with a strange amount of affection, and The Doctor with curiosity) and grabbing her arm and dragging her back into the dance hall. The ginger tried to go after her alien friend but, was stopped by her husband. (Who she quickly wrenched free from.)

Amy was the man in their relationship, that was for sure. But it was clear that she loved the other man, even if he did get on her nerves. It was a childhood romance, corrupted by the entrance of an alien. 

Interesting how much I can get it from one look. People are so easy sometimes. There wasn’t much looking that needed to be done. The ginger stomped down the hallway, pausing for a moment, making slight eye contact with me, and then entering the dance hall. The husband started speaking about how the ginger was always like this and she could never be controlled. Blah, blah, blah. His intellect was substantially lower than the rest of them. The Doctor’s ranking first, followed by the gingers and then the husbands.

Husbands are usually the ones at the bottom of the intellect levels. Aside from John, who was quite smart himself. Not as smart as I, though. 

But the look. Her look. The ginger’s look. It meant something. She wanted me to do something. What was it? Well, I only had a certain amount of options. I could disregard her look completely, or I could follow her inside, and listen to what she had to say. Because clearly, she had some questions. And since she made eye contact with me, they needed to be answered by myself. 

So I followed the ginger back into the dance hall, the husband yelling some apologies to John and Mary who were promising him it was going to be alright. 

She was standing against the wall of the dance hall. Arms crossed. Hair flowing. I had to admit, for one of the female gender, she was quite attractive. Lots of freckles dotting her face. Her eyes met mine, a darkish shade of some strange color met my deep brown ones. (Going by her red hair, I would say that they would probably be green.) She motioned me over to her, and I joined her by the wall. 

“Hello.” I said.

“Hello.” She muttered back, not looking at me. “You were staring.”

“I was admiring your dress.” She glanced at me, an eyebrow raised. “I wasn’t exactly expecting there to be two brides at this wedding.”

“Well I didn’t expect to be here.”

“Where did you expect to be?”

“I don’t know. I just expected The Doctor to be more mature. But no. Of course not.” She sighed and I saw her eyes dart towards the strange man dancing in the middle of the crowd. With Molly. She looked happy. That was always good. I wonder where Tom went. Perhaps she had gotten rid of him already. She was too smart for him to begin with.

“He’s always a child inside, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” She paused. “Well, almost all the time. Sometimes I don’t know who he is.”

The was an awkward pause. I didn’t know how to continue the conversation and was debating if I should have just left then. But she stuck her arm out, hand at her hip and arm making a weird diamond shape with her figure. Her eyes met mine and she smirked. “What? Does the famous Sherlock Holmes not know how to dance?”

Annoying. “Of course he does.”

“Then dance with me.” 

I must have looked a bit shocked. 

“Oh wow! Did you not expect me to ask you to ask me to dance? Seriously?” She laughed. “We’re at a wedding! There is music playing! And I ask you to follow me, you do, and then you just expect us to stand here?”

She grabbed my arm and dragged me on to the dance floor. 

I don’t mean to seem straightforward but, for someone who had just gotten married, she was acting like she was single. Not everyone just takes someone else’s arm and drags them onto a dance floor. Which probably meant that she did something rather straightforward as a job. Or she did do something straightforward, before she got married. It must have paid well, going from how perfectly her hair fell down her shoulders and how expensive her bright white lacy dress (or should I say gown) was. 

So it must have not been something appropriate. Stripper? No. Her bust was too small for that. Something like that though. Kissogram. Perfect. That seemed about right. Which was why she wasn’t getting the same amount of money anymore, her husband had told her to quit. 

An interesting kissogram, that was for sure. 

A kissogram important enough to appear in the middle of John and Mary’s first dance. (Which, to be honest was not even close to their first dance, they had been practicing and practicing for hours on end. To be honest, I don’t understand why they call it a ‘First Dance’ if they’re going to practice and practice to get it perfect.) A kissogram who traveled through space. It made sense, weird sense, if I thought about it. But it also made my head hurt, so I stopped. 

Time travel wasn’t possible.

She placed her hands on my shoulders gently. Such a kind touch for such a strange woman. A beautifully strange woman with a flirtatious yet motherly instinct. I placed my hands on her hips. She raised an eyebrow at me, curious that I actually knew how to dance probably. Mycroft had taught me how to dance once before, with one of the dummies we had found lying about in the house we had stayed the summer in. Dancing is a lot harder than it looks, but since Mycroft got the hang of it so easily, I was determined to be better than him. (Which, of course, I am.) 

And we started dancing, getting down to the loaded conversation that she had just in store for me. 

“Tell me who you really are.” She said. 

“Sherlock Holmes.” Of course I was Sherlock Holmes. William Sherlock Scott Holmes. The brightest man in the world.

“Don’t lie to me.” She leaned forward. I could smell a tinge of alcohol on her breath. It wasn’t that much, but it was enough to make someone slightly out of it. It made sense, she had just come from her own wedding and jumped into the strange blue box that people on the dance floor were strictly avoiding. She deserved to be happy. “You’re a liar. Sherlock Holmes is a fictional character from one of my favourite books.” 

Favourite.

She squinted at me. So I squinted back at her. “But of course, I am not actually fictional. I don’t know what stories of John’s that you have been reading, but I am very real, and you are drunk. Anyone can see that I am a literal person. I am standing in front of you. In fact your hands are on my shoulders. You are touching me.”

She swung slightly, leaning her whole body weight against me. My eyes darted from her smirking face to The Doctor who was looking suspiciously at me as he danced weirdly around Molly. Like a giraffe. Then to John, who had just entered the room and was looking wide eyed at me. Then Mary, who was directly behind him, looking in shock and then darted back outside, probably to stop the husband, the Mr Williams, from seeing us together. I had to get rid of her, and fast. 

But she wouldn’t let go.

She was speaking in such a low voice that I could barely hear, she whispered into my ear. “I don’t care what you say. You’re not real. This isn’t possible. Not even in my wildest dreams. Not the both of you.” It made sense now. The Doctor must have been a fictional character for her. Difficult to accept that he was real. But when she finally did, I appeared which made her question everything that she’d ever read or seen. Difficult to accept that I was real. Plus she was really very drunk by this point. 

Was I really fictional in another universe? It was difficult to wrap my head around it. And I didn’t really have the time. (I really needed talk to John about him stopping writing his blog though.) 

I sort of, (mind the word) waddled, over to John and disposed of the ginger into the crowd of empty seats that lined the room. Instead of her head lolling in the chair, she looked up at me. Her look was hard, smart, feisty. Only in a moment, only in that one look, I understood. In order to be a good kissogram, she had to be quick, she had to know her way around flirting, but make sure that she didn’t get into any twists at the same time. 

She was smart. She was smarter than I would have ever had thought. And as she smirked up at me, one eyebrow raised, I realized. She knew how to get information out of men. And she had done so, and as much as I despised to say it, she had gotten the information out of me that she needed. Despite the fact that she had only just gotten married and she was still in her wedding gown. What Lestrade had said to (ugh) Anderson, was right. Gingers were feisty, and gingers were soulless. 

I grimaced down at her, almost groaning at myself for what I was about to do. 

I pulled out a chair beside her. And I sat down beside her.

She looked over at me in mock surprise. “Oh! Hello. I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Lets start again, shall we?” I muttered, looking sternly back into her eyes.

She mocked my serious manner. “Alright, good sir. What could your name possibly be, you dark haired, handsome fellow?”

“Sherlock Holmes. Consulting Detective. The--” I was cut off. 

“The only one in the world. The greatest detective this world has to offer. The greatest detective this universe, or any universe, has to offer.” She grinned at me.

“And you might be?” I asked her. I was a tad bit upset that she had taken my line. I loved saying that to people, it made them stare in awe at my famousness.

“Amy Pond. Amelia Pond, really. I should say Williams now, but that makes me sound like a boring history teacher.” She laughed slightly. I forgot all about her husband who Mary was trying to hold off. 

“Amelia Pond.” My memory shifted through the few fiction novels that I had read. One about a brave female pirate who risked everything for her crew and her ship. One with fiery ginger hair, and daring green eyes that craved adventure. “Just like something from a fairytale.”

She genuinely smiled.


	4. The Dancing Queen

Molly's POV

I was starting to get worried about Sherlock. 

And John and Mary. 

But mostly Sherlock. 

I had a good reason too. I knew, from experience that he didn’t do well with new people. And since these people had sort of appeared in the middle of nowhere, I would have thought that he would be confused. Such a small blue box couldn’t possibly hold three tall figures such as their own. Unless they were squeezed together ever so tightly. Which was very unlikely.

I wondered where they were from. Perhaps it was some sort of magic that had brought them here? It was too hard to tell. And I was no brilliant Sherlock Holmes. I couldn’t deduce.

And plus, Sherlock had done everything to set me up with that nice man. I had to do something in return. Even if it did cause me to lose that date. (Maybe it wasn’t considered a date, but it certainly felt like one.)

I was sitting, at the time, at one of the tables, while the man I had been ‘paired-up’ with (if you’d like to call it that) was dancing with the maid of honor. What a nice looking couple. I wondered briefly at the time if they’d stay like that. (I was wrong.) But I was more curious to why John had dragged Sherlock, Mary and the inhabitants of that blue box that hadn’t moved from the center of the dance hall. 

I would just like to quickly say that, I have been spending too much time with Sherlock.

And then I should probably continue. 

I stood up, my heels barely clicking and clacking on the dance floor. Mostly blared out by the noise of the dance. DJs these days, I swear. They were fun, but if you were planning to keep your hearing… Not the best choice. The lasers blasted across the hall, illuminating certain figures, and parts of the room. I walked to the door to the side hallway. No one noticed me.

No one ever does, but I suppose that’s my own fault.

I’m not the most secure person in the world. 

I opened the door and looked into the hallway, my ears were ringing slightly, and the beat seemed to echo through my ribcage. I entered the hallway and saw them. They were all incredibly tall, minus John and Mary, and the redhead seemed to be having a fit of some sort. She was yelling at the first man that had entered the room from the blue box. The man with the floppy hair and the smile like a child. But, that man was not smiling at this moment. He was backing away from the redhead, her husband (the one with the funny lips), Sherlock, John and Mary. 

And towards… Me?

What… What was he doing? 

He turned around and faced me, smiling awkwardly, and grabbed my arms and took me out of the hallway. He was really very tall. Very very tall. And his arms seemed to be as thin as toothpicks, his torso only slightly sturdier than that, but just as thin. 

I caught Sherlock’s eyes briefly as he watched me go. He seemed just as confused as I was. 

I tried to fight the arms that were taking me out of the place that I actually wanted to be. I elbowed the blue box visitor. He jumped back. 

“Ow!” He looked hurt. “What was that for?!”

“You shouldn’t just be taking people without their consent!” I looked up at him. He seemed actually really hurt by my half-punch. In fact, he looked even more puppy-dog-ish and adorable. His big chin seemed out of proportions. But it made him look funny all the same. Like a crazy uncle funny. 

“Well, sorry.” He seemed to be a tiny bit confused. “I’m The Doctor, and seeing that I have just met Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Mary Morstan. You must have something to do with the series. Let me guess… Irene Adler?”

“I’m not Irene Adler. Sorry.” I paused, thinking over his words. “And, you said series?”

He paused for only a split second. There was something he knew. I just couldn’t put my mind around it. “I suppose you don’t know about the series. Mr. Watson is writing something about Sherlock? Their adventures?”

He was right. What a strange man. I hadn’t read much of John’s writings, but as far as I knew, they were basically worldwide. “I do. But, as far as I know, they’re just him blogging.”

“Series. Blogging. Same thing.”

“Sure.” I put my hands on my hips. “Who are you?”

“I’m The Doctor.” He had a stupid grin on his face.

“Doctor who?” 

He seemed ecstatic at my response.

“Oh! I like you.” He looked like he was about to take my hands and kiss them. Or kiss me… I couldn’t tell really. “I like you a lot. You’re ever so lovely. Ask me again!”

“Uh.” What a strange man. “Doctor who…?”

“It sounds very cool, doesn’t it! Say, what is your name?”

“Hooper. Molly Hooper.” I said. “Ring a bell?”

“No, not really. No bells a ringy-dingy. Molly Hooper.” He put his mouth around the words. “Mooooolllllly Hooooooopppppeeeeerrrr.”

I started to go back to the hallway. But he stopped me, his skinny torso in my way. “But I’ve only just met you! This isn’t the way to treat a guest, Miss Hooper.” I looked up at him again. He had an intelligent face, even more than I had thought, despite it’s childish aspects. And he seemed almost too kind to be true. What a lovely man. What a strange and lovely man. Full of mystery and wonder, like Sherlock was, but interested in me all the same. Which was something Sherlock had never done. (Besides that one time, anyway. He cared for John more than anything in the world.)

“But I’m not hosting anything. This is John and Mary’s wedding.” I needed to get back to Sherlock. He was blocking my view.

“Just one dance?” He looked like a kicked puppy.

I couldn’t say no to that face.

I found myself spinning in the arms of a man I didn’t even know. Spinning so quickly that I felt that he was going to let go of me at any second, and send me flying in who know which direction. And hitting who knows what at almost hyperspeed. He didn’t seem to notice my fright, or he pretended not to. What a strange man. 

And suddenly, we were slow dancing. It was so sudden. I was spinning, and then we were still, and I was looking up into the intelligent eyes of a young man I knew nothing about. At least, I thought he was a young man. He looked the part correctly. He smiled slightly, awkwardly. There was something so interesting about him, something that Sherlock never had. Perhaps because he never payed attention to me, and this interesting man had. I didn’t know.

“How do you know him?”

I looked up. “What?”

“Sherlock Holmes. How do you know him, Molly Hooper?”

“We work at the morgue together.”

“You’re his partner?” He raised his eyebrows. I must have blushed like a wildfire. “You are! How lovely!”

“I… I’m not…” His grin dropped. 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know! I’m not,” He paused for dramatic effect. “ _ Sherlock Holmes _ .”

I laughed without meaning to. 

“Aha!” He cried, spinning me around once again. “So you like the detective, do you! I might say, quite a good choice, but it isn’t.”

“He’s in love with his work, I know.”

“You might say his work, and you might be wrong.” 

I looked up. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll find out later. You certainly will.” He winked. But his eyes were darting to something that was behind me. Perhaps it was Sherlock. I attempted to turn, but he stopped me. It was Sherlock. Maybe he was with that beautiful ginger girl who was traveling with The Doctor. (If that was even what his real name was.) 

“You seem like you know a lot about Sherlock. But I think he knows nothing about you. But John seems to know exactly who you are, though you know nothing about him… Why is that?”

He looked down at me, his green eyes fidgeting slightly. He seemed sad. “To tell you the truth, Molly Hooper, I have absolutely no idea.”

“You don’t?” I must’ve looked very confused. 

“Didn’t you ever wonder how I got here, Molly Hooper?” He smirked at me. “A blue box appearing in the middle of the most famous fictional characters in the universe, doesn’t really go unnoticed, does it?

“Well I wasn’t going to ask, if you didn’t want to tell me…” I paused for a moment, confused. “And fictional cha--”

He cut me off. “Molly Hooper. Do you believe in Time Travel?” There was a strange twinkle in his eye, a mysterious twinkle that made me want to ask him what he meant. But, Time Travel? That wasn’t even possible, if it was, Sherlock would have figured a way of how to do it by now. He would have stopped everything bad that happened, and he would have made sure that John was alright. Wouldn’t he? 

I guess I didn’t really know Sherlock as well as I thought I did.

“Well do you?” There was that twinkle again.

“Uh… I don’t know… Something like that is just fictional, isn’t it?”

“How do you think I got here then?” He grinned.

Was he really a Time Traveler? That wasn’t really possible, was it? If it wasn’t, how did he get here? John looked just as confused as I when The Doctor arrived. But did that mean he was a magician? Why were John’s friends all so strange? What on earth was going on here. I needed to find Sherlock. Sherlock knew what was going on. He always did. No matter how strange things got, he always understood. That was just who he was, and I adored him for it. Even if I was only John’s replacement most of the time.

“I know you’re smart enough to know that it wasn’t magic, Miss Hooper. Someone like you should believe in magic, but I understand if you don’t. You’ve seen Sherlock Holmes, of course. He’s as un-magical as they get. He uses his brain, and I suppose that’s the only thing you care about.” He paused slightly, looking away. “But, if you were given the chance, would you believe in Time Travel, Miss Hooper?”

What was he asking of me? To believe in something basically impossible? I wasn’t a child anymore. I shouldn’t have believed in things that weren’t real, or we’re only in fairytales. 

“I’m a Time Lord, Miss Hooper.”  He grinned at me, taking both my hands in his own and squeezing them. 

This night was turning out a lot weirder than I thought it was going to be. 


	5. Questioning the Future

Rory's POV

First off, The Doctor was an idiot. A brilliant idiot that I would have gladly kissed at this moment in time, seeing as he had just introduced me to my idol. The person that I knew I would never meet. But I did. And that person was none other than the famous John Watson. 

John Watson, as everyone knew was the ‘author’ of the famous Sherlock Holmes series that I had read when I was younger. I had loved the series, not for Sherlock and his slightly annoying sense of being better than everyone (a god on earth as Amy called him) but simply for Watson. His whole life was just so interesting, even though he was the ‘sidekick character’, I cared for him a lot more than I did Sherlock. 

(Maybe it was because Amy loved Sherlock just as much as she loved her imaginary Doctor. If not more.)

But there he was, in front of me. Looking at me like I had just appeared out of the sky, something that he had never really ever wanted to meet. It felt like he knew just as much about me as I did about him. It was a weird feeling, but I just had to talk to him. I just had to. 

“Uhm… Hello.” I awkwardly grinned at my hero.

“Hello.” He looked up. Awh, he’s so much tinier than I had expected! “What’s your name?” Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow!!!

“Po--Williams. Rory Williams. Nurse. Recent husband to Amelia Po--Williams.” Wow. The Doctor was really growing on me. More than I would have liked to admit. To him and Amy that was.

“John Watson. A pleasure to meet you.”

Mary was still standing there. Watching me fanboy over John. She smiled softly, noticing the fact that I wanted to talk to John alone. What a lovely woman. Terribly lovely. I must have gave her a nod of gratitude. I hope I gave her a nod of gratitude. If I didn’t, I must have looked like such a bumbling idiot. I must have looked like The Doctor.

She walked out of the hallway that the five of us had previously crammed ourselves into, and back to the party. Mary seemed, at the time, a bit of a party animal. I turned back to John.

“Oh the pleasure’s all mine.” A short pause. “Sorry for crashing your wedding.” Not really. Not really sorry at all.

“Oh, it’s not your fault. The Doctor crashed it here.” He gestures vaguely to where the human-like alien had made his exit only moments before. 

“No it really is. I’m terribly so--Wait.” I looked down at the little man, raising my eyebrows. “You know The Doctor?”

There was a pause. An awkward, pregnant pause. 

A pause that was filled with wonder and a lot of confusing thoughts. I should have realized it earlier, to be honest, and I was quite surprised that I hadn’t. John Watson had been mentioning facts about The Doctor all night. I looked over at the shorter man’s wrinkled face, not from age of course, but from stress. Something terrible had happened in his past. Which, since I knew my books so well, was Sherlock’s fake death. But Sherlock was clearly back now. So, what was John so caught up on now?

“I do know The Doctor.” He smiled sadly. “But, he does not know me. Not yet.” He glanced up at my eyes, a forlorn look in his own. He must know something. Something that would happen to The Doctor in his future.

I nod, and started trying to press information out of him. Though I would never tell The Doctor about his own future unless it was something really damn important. Something that might change the fates of the people around him. Who were basically Amy and I.

“How did you meet him?” I asked, tripping over my own toes as the two of us started to walk down the hallway. 

“I…” He sighed. “I can’t tell you that.”

Figures.

“Why not? Did The Doctor tell you something important?”

He was really hesitating to tell me at this point. If only I had Amy’s body and confidence at a point like this. I could just as easily pin John Watson to the wall and stroke his inner thigh until he gave me the information that I wanted. I was not a kissogram. Oh gosh, just thinking about stroking the innerside of John Watson’s thigh. My face was probably as red as Amy’s hair by now.

“Well… I suppose it was important. It had to do--Rory, was it, are you alright?” He looked at me like a doctor would a patient.

Shoot. I had to get out of this quick.

“I… I forgot my corsage…” I gestured behind us, around the corner. Corsage. Yes, I really said corsage in front of my idol. Corsage as in the type of wrist flowers and such that women wear around their wrists. To prom. That girls wear to prom. 

Not men. 

Well, maybe men. It depends. People can do things for reasons.

But it didn’t matter, because my face was burning and I had just made a fool of myself, twice. I stumbled away from him, awkwardly tripping over the air a couple times before hiding in the hallway. He must have been looking at me weirdly. Anyone would have been looking at me weirdly.

And I mean  _ anyone _ .

And there I stayed for a moment. A little longer than a moment. Drowning in my thoughts. There was no corsage to pick up. But there was an old, dusty vase of plastic flowers. As quietly as I could, pulled the faded flower tops and stuffed them in my pocket. That way, if John asked to see the corsage, I would have had a corsage to show him.

I was about to start back towards my idol when I heard the hallway door creak open. John mumbled a greeting, and the person mumbled something back. Mary Morstan. They spoke in whispers. John briefly mentioning my name before Mary saying something that sounded a bit like a teapot boiling on a stove in the house next door. Maybe it was the music. It was probably the music. But that didn’t stop me wondering on what they were talking about.

I walked back into the open. Mary exited. John turned back to me. 

“Find your… corsage?” He looked a bit more nervous than before I had left. Mary  _ had _ said something.

“Yeah.” I looked at my shoes. “So, what were you saying before?”

“Well… I don’t suppose it will hurt, but I cannot tell you that much. At all.”

“Go ahead.” I was very curious at this point.

“Well… It has to do with you. And your wife, Amelia.” Amy. She had never said that her name was actually Amelia, The Doctor was the only one who ever called her that. Which simply meant that John was telling the truth.

“Amy and I?” He gave me a look. “Ah, sorry, go on.”

“Something… Something happens to you two. Something bad.” His hand twitched slightly.

“What?” I leaned over to him, scared and curious.

“I can’t tell you.” 

“What do you mean you can’t tell me? This is my life that we are talking about.” I waved my arms about, trying to prove my point. “This is my future. This is what I could change. If you only tell me.”

“Rory. I can’t tell you.” He looked me straight in the eyes. A slight sadness in them. 

“John I--” Mary opened the door again, looking in at the two of us. 

“John,” She smiled sweetly at me before turning back to her husband. “care to have another dance?”

He nodded, smiling at his wife. And then he looked back at me. “It was nice to meet you Mr. Williams.” He made his exit quickly, linking arms with his wife as she pulled him to the dancefloor. 

I stood in the hallway for quite awhile. It seemed like eternity. John had left, and he had told me very little. Only if I was a better detective skills, like Sherlock. Or The Doctor. Or Amy. Or literally anyone else but myself. But I did not have detective skills. Okay, maybe I did have detective skills. But that did not mean that they were any good.

I made my way to the door and opened it, stepping back out into the party. Though the music was loud, all was quiet in my head. Things still unsolved. Unanswered. I glanced over at Amy who had her back to me, and was waving her arms about to the famous Sherlock Holmes, who was nodding his head to her story. Looking a little bit bored, but at the same time not feeling the need to be overly rude about it. Over to The Doctor who was talking (and waving his arms about similarly to Amy) to the small young lady that he had dragged out into the party earlier. She looked a bit concerned, listening to The Doctor talk on and on about something that she truly did not understand. And no sign of Dr. Watson or his wife. 

Figures.

They must have ran off. Not wanting to answer my silly questions. 

I sighed. 

Alone. Always alone. I was always alone, even if I was surrounded by people. (Hell, I was even the third wheel at my own wedding.) But honestly, I only wondered about the Watsons. And what exactly John knew.

What was so terrible about my own future that even The Doctor wouldn’t let John tell me?


	6. Into the Past

John's POV

I must say, the cool air calmed me. 

Of course, it also brought a whole hell of a lot of memories back to the surface but, it is what it is. If I hadn’t, I don’t think that I could have been able to cope with anything else. 

Rory Williams had been asking too much. And although I could sense that he wanted to know as badly as he wanted not to disrupt my wedding entirely, it was just too much. I knew too much. The Doctor had told me too damn much. And it was tearing me apart. 

The Doctor was so happy. So very happy with the Ponds. And all of that, every single bit of it, he was going to lose it all. That poor man, if he even was a man at all. His Ponds, his life, everything that he knew, it would all fall away from him, and he would be unable to catch it. 

But I knew I couldn't say a single thing. If I told him just the tiniest part about his future, he...

In total honesty, I didn't know what he would do. He was a madman with a blue box, after all. And I couldn't break a promise to someone as sweet, and soon to be heartbroken, as he. 

The promise. 

The Doctor's promise.  
  
I can picture it as if it was yesterday. For, as always, meeting The Doctor is something you never forget.

\------

_ "Is this seat taken?" _

_ It took me a second to realize that the man was talking to me.  _

_ "I'm sorry-" I stuttered. "what?" _

_ "I said, is this seat taken?"  _

_ "Yes-no-I don't know. There are other benches in this-" _

_ He cut me off. "Good." And he sat down next to me. I glanced over. I must have come up to about his shoulder in height, and that was just sitting on the bench! I looked him over for a split second. Tweed jacket, button-down shirt, dark (slightly too short) pants, lace up nearly boot-like shoes, and a bright red bowtie. What a strange man.  _

_ I then proceeded to look up at his face. He looked quite young. But he had wrinkles in his forehead, the type of wrinkles that would suggest that he was a lot older. Or he had gone through quite a few traumatic experiences in his short time span. He had soft brown hair that flopped over his face, making him look even more upset with his current position. He suddenly turned to look at me and I quickly looked away. _

_ “Oh John…” I froze. How did he know my name? _

_ He ran a hand through his hair, before putting his head in his hands. He looked like he was about to cry. He looked like the feeling that I had in my chest. That knotting, terrible feeling that had been sitting there, eating up everything that was good in my current life like some sort of black hole. The feeling that made my stomach drop when I saw him falling. The feeling when I heard the sickening crunch on the sidewalk. The feeling that made me want to cry and vomit at the same time.  _

_ Oh Sherlock…  _

_ I swallowed, sending that feeling from my throat back down to my stomach. _

_ “Why does everything turn out this way…” His voice cracked slightly. Oh dear. If this man started crying there would be no hope for me. I would easily join him. “Every single thing!” _

_ “I…” I didn’t know how to comfort him. I didn’t even know this man! “How do you know my name…?” _

_ He looked over at me, his nose was slightly pink. “Oh. We haven’t met yet. For you at least.” He paused, and I waited for him to continue. “I suppose I should just tell you who I am. But you can’t ask any questions.” He cleared his throat slightly. “I am The Doctor. I am a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey.” _

_ There must have been a good two minute silence before I started laughing.  _

_ “What a nice joke! From another planet! That is insane!” I couldn’t stop laughing either. It was the first time I had laughed since Sherlock’s death, and I couldn’t stop myself. It was just fantastic. It was completely crazy. Maybe I was losing my mind…  _

_ “John Watson!” The man looked at me with a certain sternness that I had not seen since I last seen my parents. “This is important. I have met you before, but you haven’t met me. I know your name for goodness sake!” He sighed and leaned back on the bench. “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.” A brief pause. “Not anymore.” _

_ I stopped laughing rather abruptly. “What do you mean?” I had to admit, I was curious. _

_ He didn’t answer, he just blew a strand of hair out of his face like some sort of teenage drama queen.  _

_ “Lets try that again.” I took a deep breath. “Lets just say, I believe you. That you are some sort of martian-” _

_ “Martians live on mars, John.” _

_ “Whatever.” I continued. “For the moment, I believe you that you are some sort of time traveling alien. Tell me something about myself.” Knowing my name could have been just a coincidence, after all, John is a rather unoriginal name. _

_ “Your name is John Watson. And your best friend is Sherlock Holmes. Sorry, should I say  _ was _ Sherlock Holmes? He’s dead right now, isn’t he?” _

_ “Continue.” _

_ “Well… I was at your wedding? You knew who I was then, but this is our first meeting in your eyes. I have met you before.” _

_ “I get married? Wait, Sherlock is… What? What’s happening?” _

_ “Ah, the future. I have said too much, haven’t I.” He chuckled, his big chin wobbling as he let out a breathy chuckle.  _

_ And then we sat in silence for a bit. I contemplated what he had said for what seemed to be quite awhile. I was to be getting married? Something about Sherlock? Something important about Sherlock? But he had landed on the concrete and there was blood everywhere… I was there for that bit. I knew it was him. And he looked so… _ dead _. Which he was. But then there was this said ‘Time Traveler’ beside me so… What was I to really believe? _

_ “Anyway,” The Doctor smiled sadly off into the distance. “there is a reason why I’m here, believe it or not.” _

_ “Really? I thought time travel was completely random…” _

_ “Maybe in your earthian movies.” He waved his hand about awkwardly. “But not with me. I need you to promise me something.” He looked directly into my eyes, as if it was killing him to ask this of me. _

_ “Why should I promise you anything?” I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t even know you.” _

_ “John Watson. I have told you nearly everything about your current predicament. And I know it is the truth, John Watson. You yourself told me. In the future.” He winked. “Do we have a deal or not?” _

_ “I… I suppose we do.” _

_ “Good.” _

_ “Now then, first off. You will meet me in your future soon. Well, soonish.” He wiggled his head around a bit as he spoke. “But I won’t know who you are. You see, time shenanigans cause all sorts of awkward situations. However, when I meet you for the first time and you meet me for the second time: there will be others who will be with me.” It took him a long time to say it, but he eventually spit, “Amy and Rory Pond.” He nodded to me. _

_ “Alright.” There was something about the way he had spat their names. “Did something happen to them?” I paused, rethinking my sentence. “Will something happen to them?” _

_ An incredibly long pause. _

_ “Yes.” _

_ He said it so eerily. Like it hurt his heart to say anything about the Pond’s. The way he spoke the solitary word reminded me on how I spoke about Sherlock. Voice cracking, about to let go a waterfall of tears. He was just such a sad man. And I understood him completely. I looked over at the man, whose elbows were pressed against his thighs and whose hands were running over his own face. He looked utterly broken.  _

_ He looked exactly like how I felt every single god damn day of my life.  _

_ I knew I would promise him anything. And it wasn’t one of those silly promises that I made to Mrs Hudson when I said I would visit. A true promise. _

_ The Doctor started again. “When you meet me again, I need you to tell me something very important.” He turned to face me, and I would have laughed at the messiness that his hair had become but this was a serious moment. It was not a laughing matter.  _

_ “Tell me to treasure my time, because I won’t be able to get it back.” The time traveler took a deep, shaky breath. “Because Amy and Rory Pond are dead.” _

_ He smiled sadly at me one last time. And I don’t think I will ever forget his face. He was lost and alone. Something, I of all people, should not have understood, but I did. I understood him completely.  _

_ “I’m sorry…” I stuttered slightly. “for your loss.” _

_ It was all I could manage to say.  _

_ It was like my emotions had become an entire being who confronted me with my own heartbreak. And I did what I thought was best. I nudged the man in the shoulder and hugged him. I tried to push all my condolences and understandings and heartfelt monologues that were running through my head into the hug. It was all I could do. And I could only hope that he understood me. _

_ “As am I, John Watson.” He let out a deep sigh. “As am I.” _

\------

I looked out into the night. The Doctor was here at this particular moment in time. At my wedding for crying out loud. And he knew that Sherlock would return, but he didn’t tell me. 

I suppose it would have ruined the surprise. 

I let out a sad chuckle.

Sometime between now and when I would meet him for the first time, The Doctor would lose his precious Pond’s. And I couldn’t say anything to him about it. No matter how much I wanted to. It was his future and my past. He hadn’t spoiled anything for me, why shouldn’t I do the same? 

Perhaps because his friends would die.

No. I couldn’t spoil it. I couldn’t tell him. He would be heartbroken, and that look in his eyes from last time… I couldn’t bear to see it again. Especially since Sherlock was alive and I could barely relate to him anymore. What would I say? Did I even have anything to say to him?

It was all one big lump in my throat. For all I knew, this would be the last time I would ever see The Doctor. (The last time I would be able to thank him for pointing Mary out of a crowd of park-goers and saying, “You should talk to her. She’s very kind.” He had set me up with the woman that I married.) 

But maybe… 

Maybe just this once. No one was listening or looking or anything. I could rid myself of the words and never speak them again. So no one would ever get the chance to hear them. 

The night seemed to be waiting in anticipation. Waiting for the words to jump out of my throat and break the silence around me. I took a deep breath and whispered into the night.

“I’m sorry Doctor but, Amy and Rory Pond are going to die.”

Something squeaked behind me. The door. I whipped my head around, why hadn’t I noticed that someone or something was behind me--

A man cleared his throat.

It was The Doctor.  
  
And I was incredibly screwed.


	7. Our Last Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the final installment! I hope you enjoyed this story!

The Doctor's POV

My breath caught in my throat.

It felt like I would never breath again.

Did I hear John right? Were my ears deceiving me? Amy and Rory were… I couldn’t even think it. I couldn’t even comprehend what he had spoken. Out of everyone… All my so called ‘companions’. Out of all my friends. The Ponds?

“John…” My voice cracked. 

He looked frozen. Shock, horror. His whole face was contorted in shame. 

But he needed to say something. He had to. He couldn’t just leave it at that. And he wasn’t the type of man to lie on the spot. To give hope where there wasn’t any. He was John Watson, the author of the Sherlock Holmes books… Err… The Sherlock Holmes blog? He wasn’t about to lie about something that he knew to be so incredibly important to me. 

Or at least, I hoped he wouldn’t.

“Doctor…” He swallowed, his brow furrowed. He couldn’t meet my eyes. Well, if I was giving similar information I don’t think I would be able to meet someone’s eyes either. Then and again, I would probably lie to get out of the situation and take whoever it was to another planet to take their mind off of the fact. It was rule number one, after all. The Doctor  _ always _ lies. “...I’m so sorry.”

I hadn’t moved from my place in the doorway. Not wanting anyone to listen to our rather intimate conversation, I stepped out into the cool air and closed the door behind myself. It was so different out here than it was inside. 

Inside, it was heated, one could easily forget all of one’s problems. It was happy, pure. It was what a wedding should be. The joining of two families. But out here? Problems seemed to come from nowhere. Out of the darkness like nightmares in a child’s imagination. Or rather, shoved in your face by a rather tiny doctor.

John clasped his hands together behind his back, his whole posture getting rather stiff and army like. Was this what happened when he actually had to confirm bad news? Was there an option to receive the good news before the bad news? He seriously doubted it.

“Doctor… You asked how I knew who you were… Well, you visited me. I suppose, you  _ will _ visit me. And you will give me the news of the Pond’s... Deaths.” He paused, looking at my face carefully to gage if I was going to freak out or not. It must’ve looked like I felt nothing. 

But it was quite the opposite. I was going to lose them? Out of everyone? Them? It seemed unreal. Amelia Pond had been the first face that my face had ever seen. I owed her so much. Half her lifetime’s worth of adventures. All gone because he couldn’t operate his TARDIS correctly. She deserved so much more. They all did. All of his past friends. (His companions as River called them.) All of his future friends. Everyone.

We stood in silence for what seemed to be forever. 

John kept looking like he wanted to say something. Opening his mouth, freezing, then closing it again. I couldn’t blame him. If I had to deliver news like this… I wouldn’t exactly know how to put it either. 

Part of me wanted to simply lie on the floor and never get up. Another part wanted to go back into the dance hall and dance myself silly. To have a good time with my friends. Kiss Amy’s cheeks, spin Rory this way and that… Tell them how much I loved them. How much I cared for them. How much I would remember them forever. Even after they were gone. And another part of me wanted to whisk Mr. and Mrs. Pond away, drop them back off home and never come back. Never deal with the pain and suffering that I knew I would have if I stayed around them. 

This was what always happened.

Something always happened to the good ones. And they were all the good ones. They all… Oh it just made my hearts hurt. 

I didn’t make a sound, I simply stepped backwards and sat down on the concrete. The sidewalk. I clasped my hands together tightly and looked down at my shoes. They were in shadow, the streetlamp wasn’t quite bright enough to illuminate everything. Some things just couldn’t be seen, couldn’t stay in the light forever. Just like the Ponds… 

John put his hand on my shoulder. It was careful, gentle. Cautious. He was still waiting for me to answer him, to say how he was feeling. To express something. Anything. 

Might as well give him what he was waiting for.

“It’s not your fault.”

There was a long pause. The air seemed to be suffocating, pressing down on the two of us like some unseen alien force. (It was possible, I had fought plenty of those.) John was picking out his words carefully. The army doctor sat down on the sidewalk beside me and sighed.

I continued, picking out my words carefully. “Everything happens eventually. You humans… You’re all so… So…”

“Impermanent?” John offered.

“Yes.” The breath hitched in my throat. “...And irreplaceable.”

John chuckled, stress filled lines appearing on his face as he smiled. “I am sure you’re irreplaceable to them too.” He paused, looking up at the sky. “A man sent from space? Please. Sure, I have Sherlock but, there’s nothing like a good old fashioned science fiction story come to life, is there?”

“I’m sure Mr. Holmes would disagree.”

“He’s not really a man for such things.” John put on his best Sherlock impression. “ _ Stick to the facts, and the facts alone. Without those facts, we have nothing.  _ Or something like that.”

“He sounds like a wonderful detective.” I scratched at my chin unconciously. “Perhaps I should come back to this day and age and have another adventure with you two. I’m sure it would prove to be quite exciting.”

“Can you do that?”

“It’s time travel, John. There is nothing you cannot do. The possibilities are endless. And that’s just on Earth alone. There are millions of planets, galaxies… All just waiting to be explored. Waiting to be discovered. Everyone has different customs, different rules, but they’re all the same, in a way. They want to live, they enjoy games and such…” My voice faded off as he looked up at the stars. There were so many… So many places… “In a time machine everything is happening all at once. The beginning of time, the end of time…”

But there were certain places… Certain places that I couldn’t visit. No matter how much I wanted to, I just wasn’t allowed to. I would create a paradox, or a black hole or something that could end in the destruction of humanity. All the future companions that I could have had… Gone. In a flash of one immature, reckless mistake. 

“I know what it’s like to lose someone you care about.” That was John again, cutting into my inner monologue. “One day they’re there, and the next you’d do anything in the world to get them back. You realize how much you needed them in the first place. They become your life, everything that you ever think about. You don’t think you can move on. You don’t…”

John’s voice cracked. 

He looked over at me, and his eyes seemed to sparkle with tears. He had lost a friend, that much he knew. But that friend had come back from the dead. And John… He must have thought about everything he could have said, everything he could have done. How much he could have appreciated them more. And so on, and so on.

“Just… Doctor…”

His voice broke.

“You still have awhile before… Well, yeah. Before everything  _ happens _ .” He paused, looking out at the dark road. “Take advantage of it. At least, while you can. It’s… You’ll… You’ll regret it otherwise. You really will.”

We sat in silence again for what seemed like eternity. 

The wind whistled in the leaves of the nearby trees. The night creaked and groaned quietly. The perfectly manicured bushes ruffled softly. There must have been a fountain somewhere nearby because there was the slight sound of water. Vines clung to the sides of the little building, coloured light bouncing from within the place.  The heat of the dance hall behind the two of us bristled with happiness, emotion. The swirl of two identically white dresses. A blonde bride, and a red headed one. One groom. A consulting detective. Party guest upon party guest… The thumping of the music. I could feel it in my ribcage. 

“What if I want to save myself the heart ache? All the emotion.”

“I guarantee you’d regret it.” John paused, thinking over his words. “Like a good man once told me: it’s better to live through the good times than to not have them at all. You’ll regret not experiencing them in the long run.” He paused again. “What do dying people always wish they had done?  _ More _ . Believe me, I hear it all the time. I’m a doctor.”

“So am I.”

“Different type of doctor.”

“In fact, I’m  _ The _ Doctor.”

“Do you have a medical degree for saving lives?”

“No… But I do have one in making them better. Changing their views on life. The usual. Exploring new worlds, saving new worlds. I’m a type of doctor that saves people that way. Take Amy, for example, she… She was lost, parentless--Well, I suppose she doesn’t really think that anymore. But I changed her whole life. I brought her parents back. I brought Rory back...”

“See, you’ve done something good. You’ve changed both hers and Rory’s lives forever. Without you, she wouldn’t even have her parents. She wouldn’t have met us… We wouldn’t have had the strange introduction of meeting backwards.”

I glanced at my fellow doctor before lying down with my back on the concrete. “Meeting backwards.” I closed my eyes. If we had already met… Then that meant we had to meet. It was already written in the stars. And that meant… That meant that Rory and Amy… They had to…

I had been trying to figure out ways so they could stay alive. My mind running as fast as a bullet, so to speak. As fast as Sherlock Holmes, if I wanted to go that far. (I’m sure the man himself would prefer if I not say such things.) But, there was just no way. There was no possible way I could keep them alive. Keep them with me until the end of time. Sure, we could all jump to the end of time to watch it but, it wouldn’t be the same. 

They wouldn’t really be traveling with me until the end of everything.

They would end up being like all the others. Everyone that I wanted to forget, but I knew I never would. These humans and their abilities to imbed their memories inside of my head… It was hopeless. I could never get rid of anyone out of my head. 

I hated it and yet I loved it all the same.

That’s why I kept coming back, after all. To be able to protect these beings. Their little lives. They were all the same, but they were all different. Each human had a completely different personality. A different way they walked, talked, acted… It was absolutely fascinating. They were all so similar, yet all so different. And they all treated me differently too.

But in the end, they all loved me. And they all had to go eventually.

John was right. Sure, humans died. Humans always died. But that didn’t mean that I couldn’t change their lives before then. What good would time travel be if I couldn’t go back and meet people or go forwards and meet people?

I didn’t know I was crying until John handed me a handkerchief. 

I dabbed at my eyes quickly and sat back upright. A look of excitement on my face (or so I hoped). “You know what?” I glanced over at him, like a kid in a candystore. “I’m going to take your advice, Mister Watson. My future--Your past… It cannot be changed.” I jumped to my feet, looking down at the other doctor. “I must try to make the best of it.”

I am not sure, nor will I ever know, if John believed me. Perhaps he thought I looked like a lunatic who was desperately trying to keep their cool. Hanging on to what little time I had left with my friends. Clinging to my happiness. Or, perhaps he really believed me. Believed the fact that I had gotten over everything. All of my pain, my sorrow. He did not know me well enough to know that I was not entirely ‘okay’ and I would never truly be.

But it didn’t matter.

I could not think of what would come. I had to think in the moment. If I looked too far ahead, too far behind… I would be lost in memories and worries alike.

John looked up at me, offering me a kind, weary smile. It was near to unreadable, what he was thinking. 

“Well, you’ve kept me preoccupied from my own wedding for long enough.” Mr. Watson got to his feet, and stretched his limbs, looking out at the night. “Let’s go back inside.”

I nodded and followed him to the door of the building. John opened the door and walked inside. But, I stopped at the doorway and looked out at the night. It was so empty, so bleak. The stars twinkled in the distance but I knew they were nothing but memories. If I came back to this exact spot a billion years from now… The sky would be different. The stars that were currently up in the sky would be nothing but memories. Fading memories of what was once there.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed that, let me know what you think, I'd love to hear it!


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